


Vengeance in Your Veins

by brilliantbanshee



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Black Paladin Lance (Voltron), Dark Lance (Voltron), Gen, Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Major Character Injury, kind of, that's really the whole point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 03:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18652018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilliantbanshee/pseuds/brilliantbanshee
Summary: Since launching into space, Lance had only strived to do one thing - protect his team, no matter the cost. Most days he does his best and it's enough. Some days, it's not even close. He has risked his own safety and sacrificed his personal glory for the sake of the team, and he would do it again. But it's not enough. He needs to do more - he needs to be more.Or,After a mission goes FUBAR and Shiro is hurt Lance takes matters - and vengeance - into his own hands.(Or, the Black Paladin Lance origin story literally no one asked for)





	Vengeance in Your Veins

**Author's Note:**

> For whatever reason Black Paladin Lance would not leave my head the other day. So of course, in typical fashion, I ignored my responsibilities, got a prompt, and wrote this. 
> 
>  
> 
> Note: the prompt was "“Don’t worry about a thing. I’m going to make it right.”

The infirmary seemed darker tonight.

There was no reason it should be – the artificial lights shone as brightly as ever. Maybe, Lance mused, it was one particular light that outshone the rest. The light of the cryopod holding Shiro in its embrace glowed brighter than anything else in the room, a beacon of Lance’s failure.

He was the red paladin. It was his job to look out for the team – especially their leader. And yet, here they were: Lance standing on the outside, looking at the pod that should have been his.

Logically, he knew there was nothing he could have done to prevent this. It had been a trap, an ambush from the start. Haggar had set a trap for them – for Shiro. Her “pet.”

Even the thought made Lance shiver.

From the moment they had arrived for what they thought were negotiation for a new coalition member, they had been on the defensive. Each of their individual hands had been full, each facing their own individual assault.

Through the tangle of his own battle, Lance had been Shiro go down. He had seen the look of horror on Shiro’s face as he had turned to find Haggar bearing down on him, had heard the screams as her magic connected with Shiro; overwhelming his senses and sending him to his knees.

Though yards and fighting, struggling bodies separated them, Lance had still heard the soft gasp Shiro had released when Haggar had let up on her assault. Even has he ran, blasting away his opponents and weaving through combat, Lance could still hear Haggar gloating at the downfall of the champion

He was mere feet away as she unleashed the final, deciding blow.

Close enough to see in horrid detail how Shiro’s eyes had bulged, how his breath had caught up in gasp, how his limbs folded, how he crumpled.

Not close enough to do anything to stop it.

Lance felt rage coursing through his veins as his bayard switched from his sword to his blaster in a flash. The edges of the gun had hardly formed before he had it up, trained on the witch before him, and fired.

Each shot landed with unerring accuracy, each one should have been a kill shot.

Haggar was many things: devious, obsessive, cunning, terrifying – just to name a few. But she was also fucking hard to kill, as it turns out. Each of the shots simmered to nothing as they touched her skin and the smile she gave Lance was a vicious promise as she vanished into thin air.

Lance sputtered in rage and spun around, chest heaving as he searched for her. She was gone.

What he did see though was a battle that was dwindling and a terrifyingly still Shiro sprawled on the ground. Without a second thought Lance dropped his blaster and ran for his leader, radioing for help and a retreat. There would be no winning today, only surviving (for all of them, he hoped).

 

* * *

 

Coran had been grim as he sealed Shiro in his pod, frowning at the scan data on his tablet. “How bad is it?” Lance asked.

“Bad,” he said briefly, his words made even grimmer by the lack of his usual bravado. “I’m afraid the physic damage is extensive. It will be sometime before he wakes. That is…”

“If he wakes up,” Lance finished softly, reading between Coran’s words and rapid blinks. From behind him he heard the sounds of shock and dismay from the rest of the team. Lance allowed them their individual grief for several minutes before he spoke again, “someone needs to call Keith. He should know and…we’re going to need him.”

“I’ll do it,” Allura replied, “Hopefully, he’s not on a mission.”

Lance nodded his thanks to her. Typically he would have done it, but he had other plans to attend to and no time to waste. He turned to Hunk and Pidge. Hunk had tears rolling down his face and Pidge seemed so much smaller than usual, weighed down by the enormity of their loss.

“Why don’t you two see what you can do about seeing where those druids disappeared to? Maybe if we can find them, they can undo this. It’s a long shot—”

“But it may be out only shot,” Pidge concluded, “We’re on it.” With that she grabbed Hunk’s arm and pulled him out of the room towards her lab.

Allura gave Lance a sad smile as she followed them out of the infirmary, undoubtedly headed towards the bridge to make a call that none of them wanted to make.

Coran watched her go, worry creasing his face.

“You should go with her,” Lance prompted him softly, “No one should have to do that alone.”

“Right you are Number 3,” the other man responded with a soft, knowing smile. With one last look at Shiro’s pod and a pat on Lance’s shoulder the Altean was gone, leaving Lance alone in the infirmary.

“I’m sorry Shiro,” he said into the silence, “I should have been better. I’m supposed to be your right hand, and…I wasn’t able to stop her. I’m so, so sorry Shiro. You shouldn’t have to go through this, not again.”

Lance received no answer or absolution from the pod in front of him, only echoing silence. He wiped away a determined tear that had made it past his defenses and straightened up, determination settling over the pain and remorse.

“I’m going to fix this Shiro,” he declared to the empty room, “I promise – whatever it takes.”

With that declaration still hanging in the air, he turned on his heel and strode out of the infirmary.

 

* * *

 

As Lance enters the hangar, his steps grow less certain. As much as he wants to make this right, he’s not entirely sure this isn’t the biggest mistake of his life.

In front of him sits the black lion: tall and unresponsive, silent since their departure this morning. Hunk and Yellow had towed her back to the castle and she hadn’t moved an inch since. He ramp was still open from their hasty exit planetside earlier however, and Lance took a deep, steadying breath before heading towards the cockpit.

As he turned the corner he couldn’t help but be reminded of the last time he had been in here. Shiro had been missing and Keith unwilling to take up the mantle and Lance had been _so_ determined to prove himself. But he had been rejected, just like he had so many times before. Then Red had called to him and he saw that he was forever destined to be second best. He had made his peace with that and had done his best to be the support that Keith, and later Shiro, needed. He had done his best.

But now things were different.

Shiro was hurt; he might never be the same. Keith was off somewhere in the cosmos, being a space spy or something. The rest of them were trying to keep their heads above water, to keep from drowning in grief and worry.

Lance wanted to be there for them, to provide direction and security.

He also wanted to hunt down Haggar and make her pay. He wanted his vengeance on her for everything she had ever done: to universe, to the team, to Shiro. He wanted to pay back that suffering tenfold. He wanted to be the one that finally saw her unable to cheat death. This vengeance and determination burned like fire in his veins and gave him the strength he needed to take those last few steps and slide into the pilots seat. It still felt far too large, but not as daunting as it had the last time. This time, the weight was comfortable.

He closed his eyes, stretching out his mind. He was immediately met with a sense of loss and anger. Black was grieving just as they were. She knew that her paladin might not pull through this time and she was livid. The danger added a sharper edge to her already formidable strength. Lance reached out with his own feeling, matching her grief and sharing his determination for revenge, his intent to make it right.

“Don’t worry about a thing Girl,” he murmured, “I’m going to make it right. I swear.”

There was silence for a beat. Lance held his breath.

Then the cockpit lit up around him and a mighty roar echoed through both his mind and the castle.

Lance grinned, “Then let’s get to work.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm toying with the idea of making this into a series, following the team from this point forward. (If I do this, Klance is guaranteed obviously once Keith shows back up). 
> 
> Sound off in the comments: did you like this? Would you read more of this? Should I burn this? Let me know!


End file.
